Unfinished Business
by ElaineColt
Summary: Captain Ochre is on a mission to seek out her past...New Captain Scarlet story. Disclaimer: I own nothing!
1. Reflections

Reflections

'How long has she been there?'

'I don't know. Couple of hours, maybe?'

Both Lieutenant Green and Captain Scarlet were standing by the Observation Lounge door, quietly discussing the almost motionless Captain Ochre, who was hunched in a chair by the window, seemingly gazing at the sunset. Scarlet was right; she had been there for several hours, and it had struck him as odd that the, usually, active Ochre was choosing to sit still for such a long period of time.

'What do you think is-'

Without even turning round, Ochre exclaimed, 'Just get lost, you two! You're starting to annoy me!' before falling silent again.

Green narrowed her eyes, staring at the back of Ochre's head, as if she was trying to see inside. This wasn't right, though it was a relief to hear some of the normal 'Ochre speak'. She couldn't stand around much longer though.

'Paul, I have to do my shift. Maybe you should just… leave her?'

'Yeah, sorry. It was just strange…'

Green and Scarlet set off in different directions, the Lieutenant being the only one to give the Lounge a back glance. Something was wrong.

As she turned the corner, Green practically walked straight into Captain Magenta, throwing out her arms and stopping herself just in time. Magenta grinned, placing one hand on her shoulder.

'Serena, you want to get close, yes? Because, if you do, I would-'

'Mario, please. I'm late for duty. Try to chat me up later!' Green broke away, hurrying along the corridor, and eventually out of his sight. Magenta grimaced. How come none of the girls liked him? Try and chat her up later… if he did, she'd probably just make another excuse to leave.

Still scowling, Magenta neared the Lounge, musing over his failure with the women of Skybase. Destiny was with Scarlet, Green liked Blue, and vying for her attention over the said Captains was pointless. The other girls were mostly single…

Passing through the sliding silver door, Magenta noticed the dark figure of Ochre over by the window. She was standing at ease, gazing out of it, in a way that the Colonel had been seen to do often. She didn't turn or show any signs of recognition that he'd entered.

Forgetting the cup of strong coffee he'd been looking forward to, Magenta crossed the room, wondering temporarily whether to slip his arms around her waist, but deciding against it. She'd just hit him. Again.

Instead, he stood to her left side, mimicking her pose, hands behind his back. He opened his mouth to say something witty and, no doubt, flirtatious, but closed it again when he noticed the definite glassy look in Ochre's eyes.

'Elaine, what's wrong?'

'Nothing.' Her abrupt answer came without any further motions, not even a bored rolling of eyes. Something was definitely up. Magenta lowered his voice.

'You can tell me. What is it? Have… have you been crying?'

'No! Shut up!'

That meant she had then. Ochre sat down heavily, pulling her legs up until her knees were under her chin. She wrapped her arms around them, sighing. Magenta frowned. He may have a reputation as a wannabe womaniser, but it did hurt him to see someone like this. He looked down at her, and eventually she looked back at him.

'What?'

'Something's worrying you. Please tell me what it is. If you truly don't want anyone else to know, I promise I won't tell.'

Ochre smiled slightly; a promising sign. 'You sound like a school kid. I would tell you but there's nothing really to tell.'

'Okay.' Magenta sat down. And waited. Five minutes. Ten minutes of sitting in silence, being baked in direct sunlight. Then…

'I got my jaw and nose broken fifteen years ago today…'

'Really?' Magenta couldn't help smiling a little. He knew she'd tell him ultimately. He then felt incredibly guilty, as Ochre's eyes bored into the side of his head, obviously wondering why he was smiling at such grim news.

'Sorry. Carry on.'

'That's all I was going to say!'

'Okay…' Magenta got up, fetched a hot cup of black coffee, and sat back down. It took until he reached the cold dregs of coffee at the bottom of the cup before she spoke again.

'There was blood everywhere, and I got completely knocked out. But it was okay in the end because the guy who did it got arrested.'

Magenta was shocked. This was what Ochre had been brooding over? This was what had made her cry? How come she'd never told anyone before, simply to get it off her chest?

He couldn't exactly say these things. Instead, he settled with…

'Did… erm… did anyone help you?'

Ochre laughed. 'I was ten, of course they helped! You're not exactly going to let a ten year old get beaten up, are you?' As soon as she'd said it, Ochre closed her eyes, silent. She shifted on her chair, allowing one arm to drape along the armrest, but keeping the other around her legs.

'Elaine… who was it?'

She turned round so quickly her neck cricked. Rubbing it, she muttered, 'You don't need to know that.'

Magenta was getting a rather sick feeling in his stomach. Why was she protecting this person? After what they'd done to her?

'Did they hurt anyone else?'

'Yeah. A few. Bryg. And Andy. And I guess Siobhan and Miles were upset and everything…'

'Who are they?'

'Just my mother, brothers friend, sister, brother. I don't see why it matters.'

'What injuries did they get?'

'Will you stop asking questions!?' Ochre snapped, her hands automatically curling into fists. Magenta saw. Usually, he would have stayed quiet, turned away, ignored her anger until it disappeared. But this time he couldn't. He grasped her lower arm.

Ochre struggled to pull it away, her face contorted, wondering what he was doing. Magenta held on. She may be strong, but she wasn't going to win.

At long last, she reluctantly smoothed the fist into a hand. He smiled, holding onto the fingers off this newly relaxed appendage. Ochre rolled her eyes. 'What are you doing?'

'Just holding your hand. Make you feel better.'

'Make me feel worse more like.' Ochre sighed again, but she didn't try and remove her hand. She leant her head back against the chair, the orange light of the sunset basking her face and turning it yellowish.

'Why haven't you tried to flirt with me yet?' Ochre asked quietly, swinging their joined hands.

'Didn't feel like it.' That was true. For some reason, Magenta really hadn't wanted to.

'I appreciate that…' Ochre tilted her head and smiled at him. Magenta felt his heart rate increase slightly, and he smiled back, praying that no one would enter the Lounge.

'Listen. I understand if you feel bad about whatever happened, but I stand by what I said. I won't tell anyone if you wish to enlighten me further.'

Ochre looked from their hands to his face. He did mean it. But she still couldn't say. It was as if there was a word limit, and she'd reached it. She shook her head gently, her hair falling forward and partially hiding her face. Magenta nodded.

'Okay. Do you want me to go?'

This time it was Ochre's turn to nod. Magenta got up, flexing his fingers as Ochre's fell away.

He had almost reached the door when she called him.

'Mario?'

He turned round, to find Elaine just behind him. Reaching up, she kissed his cheek, keeping her balance by placing her hands on his shoulders. When she'd finished, she whispered, 'Thanks,' and sat back down by the window. Magenta only just managed to say 'Don't mention it.'

He left the Lounge, thinking. He hadn't found out who had hurt her, but, somehow, he didn't need to know. He had enough ideas. It must have been so awful for her to lock that away inside for so long.

Was he closer to Ochre? He supposed so. Maybe she trusted him more. She'd kissed him. Magenta smiled. He knew how to please her. It was strange that even women like Ochre needed sentiment and understanding. Shaking his head, he walked towards the lift. He needed to think… and refine his technique.


	2. Bad Dreams

_Screaming._

_Getting louder and louder._

_Closer and closer._

_Shifting shapes, blurred images._

_Sudden sharp bursts of crimson._

_Getting clearer._

_A tall man, standing over a cowering woman, shouting at her, his noise occasionally punctured by swift, accurate blows to her body._

_A slim, metal object is clenched in his fist. The woman stays screaming, not strong enough to even try to push him off. _

_A small girl, no more than ten years old, appears, trying to fight him off her mother. The man repeatedly forces her away. She's not much of a hindrance. Even though her kicking and hitting are quite strong, he's so incensed he doesn't even realise it's happening. _

_The girl starts crying, pleading with him, and he ignores her further. _

_A bigger problem now. Two teenage boys. _

_The blonde one aims straight for the mans face, his fist meeting its mark. The girl watches as the man staggers, dropping his rifle, clutching at his nose, which is bleeding profusely. Another hit, this time to his stomach. _

_His slurred cursing taints the air, joining the filthy, copper smell._

_Blood. _

_Suddenly, a damp hand grabs the girls arm. _

_It's her brother. He yanks her towards the front door. Her vision is impaired; tears are streaming down her face. A glance at the brawling males vaguely shows her a direct hit in the boys chest. Struggling to follow, she doesn't look at them any more. _

_She only focuses on the door, and the slightly sweaty feel of her brothers hand. Then… _

_Extreme pain explodes in her jaw, her nose, and spreads to the rest of her face rapidly. _

_No warning. _

_No caution. _

_She can't close her mouth, she can't see, she can only feel the pain. Her brother starts shrieking her name as she falls. _

'_Elaine! Elaine!' _

_Silence. _

Elaine McGee woke up.

She can still hear the screaming. It was coming from her own mouth. As soon as she realised it, it faded away.

She hasn't had that dream for years, but now it was haunting her, turning on like a film each night, as soon as she closed her eyes. Her body was drenched in a cold sweat, causing the bed sheet to stick to her. She kicked it off swiftly, letting it crumple on the floor, then laid flat out on her bed.

Why was this happening? It had taken her years to push it to the back of her mind, cramp in into the dark. The day she'd almost died.

For the first time - an occupation in Spectrum meant your life was almost always at risk.

A tear trickled from beneath her closed right eyelid. She wiped it away furiously.

Big girls don't cry.

She knew she had to get help. But what can anyone do? How can you make a bad memory, a bad dream disappear? It wasn't as simple as just rubbing it out with an eraser.

She remembered the events of earlier. Talking to Mario. Why had she felt at the time that it had helped? He hadn't really done anything to benefit her, just listened, and asked more questions than were necessary.

Maybe it had helped, a little. He'd made her think, want to know more answers herself. And, finally, someone had some idea why she was the way she was.

_But I shouldn't have told him. It's private._

Suddenly angry with herself, Elaine turned over onto her side, staring at the slowly dying plant she always forgot to water.

She can still hear the screams in her head. _Why didn't I protect my mother? I tried. I failed. I should have tried again._

What happened afterwards? No one had ever told her the truth. All she knew was that a neighbour had called the emergency services, and she'd been taken to hospital.

That was it.

What happened between her blacking out, and the police and ambulance arriving?

There were so many questions without answers, and she didn't think she'd ever get to know it all.

The incident in her life when she'd started to change…for better and worse.

She gained a friend in the daughter of the woman next door, told the school mentors, who'd ceased the constant teasing against her, gained respect. But she also acted up, lost her chance of getting good grades by staying off school.

She'd hurt herself.

But that was a long time ago. She'd changed again. No one could say she wasn't strong now.

No one.

Elaine came to a decision.

_I won't ask for help. I can get through this. I have before. I'll try and force it into submission again, get the memories under control. _

_Its just a bad dream after all._


	3. Mind Games

Mind Games

'Wow…Elaine, you look terrible.'

'Gee, thanks…' Ochre sighed, carefully massaging the back of her neck with one hand. It was stiff, and ached. She sat down, and crossed one leg over the other.

'Sorry. It's just you've got these massive purple shadows under your eyes, and you're all…pasty. Do you feel okay?' Lieutenant Silver gazed at Ochre, her head on one side and concern written on her face.

'You're not very subtle, are you? I'm fine. Just didn't get any sleep, that's all. So stop worrying, please.' 

'For how many days? It's making you look kind of ill, this lack of sleep.'

'Just…just a few.' Elaine told a white lie. It had been going on for quite a while longer than a few days.

'Aww…' Silver got up and walked round the back of Ochre's chair. The Captain felt Silver's freezing cold hands on her neck, before she hit her hard. 

'Ouch! I was just trying to help you! Give you a break from messing with your own neck!' Silver cried, stroking her sore hand.

'Stop being so melodramatic…sorry, though. I just don't like people touching me there. And I don't know where your hands have been.' 

Looking slightly offended, even though she knew Ochre had been gently teasing, Silver sat back down on the sofa, still nursing her hand. There was a short amount of time where Ochre simply turned her head this way and that, trying to ease the aching. It didn't work. Silver suddenly spoke up.

'Why couldn't you sleep? Who were you with?'

'Beth, just because I couldn't sleep doesn't mean I was with someone. Since when have I, ever, been with anyone on this base?'

'Yeah, I guess you're right. Why couldn't you sleep then?'

Ochre turned and glared at her. A second later she wished she hadn't, as her neck gave a particularly painful twinge. She winced, her teeth gritted, before practically shouting, 'It's none of your business why I couldn't sleep, so get off my case!'

Silver looked like a rabbit caught in headlights, her eyes wide. 

'Fine…' She muttered after a pause, before picking up a brightly coloured magazine from the floor and disappearing behind it. Ochre didn't regret her outburst one bit.

_Serves her right for prying into it_, she thought irritably, looking sulky. 

Someone entered the Lounge. Ochre didn't have time to turn her head in that direction - with resounding clicks - because Green identified herself straight away, by loudly, and happily, calling…

'Hey Beth! Hey Elaine! Whoa, you look-'

'Terrible, I know.'

Green gave her a rueful smile and sat down by Silver. She grabbed a corner of the magazine and gasped. 'God, she's looking big. Is she pregnant?'

'No, not as far as anyone knows. She's just gained loads. Remember she broke-up with that Pablo a few weeks ago?'

'Who's he?'

'Model. You know, the nice one with the blonde streak in his hair and the silver earring? He's been all over the papers recently, parading a new girlfriend round.'

'I remember now! He's really gorgeous, isn't he? What does he see in that little blonde tart?' 

'Oh, good Lord…' Ochre got up and left the Observation Lounge, as Green and Silver eagerly started to discuss the infamous celebrities. 

There was nowhere really to go. With the two Lieutenants doing impressions of teenage gossipers in the Lounge, and a distinct lack of hunger which ruled the canteen out as well, Ochre started back to her quarters to try and catch up on some sleep. She had only gained about an hour's worth last night, and about as much the seven or so nights before that.

Rubbing her eyes, she attempted to squeeze between Blue and Scarlet, who were strolling, spread out, down the corridor. Blue grabbed her arm, and she came to an abrupt halt.

'Hey, slow down, Elaine. Do you want to… what happened to you? You look-'

'Why does everyone keep saying that?!' She wrenched her arm free, and set off again at a quicker pace, scowling. 

Scarlet and Blue watched her as she hurried away. When she'd turned the corner, Scarlet dared to ask his colleague, 'What's wrong with her? She's kind of tetchy.'

'I don't know. I just feel sorry for the rest of us. They may be relatively rare, but her bad moods last for ages…'

Grinning, Scarlet led the way into the Lounge. Green looked up, her smile widening when she saw who he was accompanied by. 

'Hey Paul, hey Adam…' Silver gave them a fleeting glance before returning to her magazine. Blue gave Green a questioning look, and she replied, 'Celebs.'

He raised his eyebrows. 'Right…'

-x-x-x-

Ochre was pacing her room. It was slightly later, and, although she'd changed into her sleep gear, she hadn't even tried to get to sleep. She was sure it would be pointless.

Suddenly, on an impulse, she strode over to her bookshelf, grabbed her photo album, and flicked through it, until she'd got to a picture of four people, three girls and a boy.

Her grinning, brown-haired brother was tightly hugging Ochre's twelve year old self, who was smiling slightly, her long, chestnut hair blowing in the wind. Two of her teeth were missing, and she was clutching her right wrist so firmly her knuckles were turning white. A stony-faced eighteen year old, her sister, stood apart from them, her bright blue eyes fixed on her younger siblings, a purplish bite mark apparent on her arm.

A slim, defeated looking woman was standing behind the younger two. Although her cheeks were hollow and nose crooked, she showed signs of long lost beauty. Thick, wavy fair hair, full lips and a good figure. 

Ochre slammed the book shut, threw it to one side and started pacing again.

_Distract yourself, distract yourself. Stop thinking about them. Stop it Elaine._

She couldn't. She just couldn't. What had become of them? She'd lost them all those years ago.

Her door buzzer went, making her jump in shock. Aware that she was only in her night clothes, she paused. Another ring. She walked over and timidly pressed the door release, hoping it wasn't a man. Seeing her in her current state would be embarrassing.

It was Captain Magenta. He looked her up and down, smirking, one eyebrow raised. 'Interrupting something, am I?'

'Yes. I mean no. I mean…why are you here?'

'I heard from Adam and Paul that you were in a bad mood. I came here to see why.'

'God, do you have to interfere in everything? Does it matter if I am? I'm not anyway!' She folded her arms across her chest, and stared at him defiantly, pouting her lips, her brow furrowed. He refrained from answering 'Yes, you are.' Instead, he just smiled at her.

'What's wrong, eh? I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours.'

'You know already. I told you yesterday… reluctantly. You forced me to.'

'Elaine, please. You know, deep down, that I didn't force you. And there's something new anyway. You weren't all… angry, yesterday. Angsty, yes, but not angry…'

Ochre turned away from him and frowned to herself. She hated to admit that Magenta was right. 

He waited for her to make her decision. After a minute, she muttered, 'Just shut up and get inside.'

Magenta strolled through, smiling, pleased with himself. Ochre rooted around in her wardrobe for a while, then disappeared into the bathroom, her arms full of clothes, to get changed. Magenta stopped himself from going through her CD collection or books, and sat down on the seat next to her bed. As the minutes passed, he wished again and again that women didn't take about five centuries to get changed. 

Finally, at long last, Ochre emerged, dressed in a white v-necked t-shirt and low-cut black jeans. As this was quite plain, she'd added several thin, coloured bangles, and a silver necklace with an inset red stone. 

As she sat down on her bed, Magenta studied her. 'You've reapplied make-up, haven't you?'

Ochre blushed slightly. 'Well, I'd taken it off before, and I'm gruesome without it.'

'I'd disagree with that.'

Ochre gave him a hard look as he winked at her.

'Haven't changed much, Mario.'

'Give me a break. Last time I saw you was only yesterday.'

She sighed as he smiled broadly. 'What were you going to say? You said you'd tell me your problem if I told you mine.'

His smile vanished rapidly, to be replaced by an anxious look. 'Well… erm…'

'Go on…' Ochre teased him, slowly blinking, a small smile on her face.

'Oh, all right, if it'll please you. It's not really a…problem, as such, it's more…well… I don't have much luck with the girls.'

Ochre practically fell off her bed laughing. 

When she'd calmed herself down a little, she managed to stutter, 'You've only just noticed? That's classic!'

'Elaine, don't laugh! I can't help it!' Magenta pleaded, but he couldn't help smiling, as he watched her rock backwards and forwards with barely suppressed mirth. At least it cheered her up.

'Mario… Mario… what do you want me to do?'

'I don't know. I just thought I should tell someone, and you seemed perfect.'

Ochre looked at him, giggling. 'I seemed perfect? You're warped if you think that!'

'No, I mean… what's your problem then?'

He hadn't meant to say it like that. Ochre stopped laughing right away, sat up straight and gripped her hands together in her lap.

'I… I still don't think I should tell you.'

'Come on, Elaine. It helps to tell someone, even if they can't make the situation better.'

She knew he was right again, which annoyed her. Hesitantly, she picked the photo album up off the floor. She sat with it clasped to her chest at first, while she spoke.

'I've been thinking about my family. What became of them. The only way I _really_ remember them…when…when things were getting better…is in this picture…' 

She opened the book and slowly flicked through it, then realised Magenta couldn't see. Ochre got up, and sat by him.

Magenta caught glimpses of different photos as she turned the pages. The lost Elaine. A small child, no older than five, playing with a white plastic horse, her hair tied in bunches. A teenager in a red halter neck top, black trousers and leather boots, posing jokily outside a building whose brightly coloured lights illuminated the surrounding area. A group shot of four men and a woman, all crowded round a motorbike, the woman sitting on it with a man's tattooed arm wrapped round her, all smiling at the camera…

'Here.' Ochre turned the page again. Magenta edged closer to see, but Ochre hurriedly gave the album to him.

He smiled at the photogenic young Ochre, before turning to her real life counterpart. 'You come from a beautiful family.'

'Cheers.' She brushed off his somewhat sickly compliment and pointed to herself in the photo. 'See? Right little saddo kid, me. Annoyed the hell out of everyone as well. Look at my sister's arm…'

'You bit her?'

'Yeah.' Ochre laughed slightly. 'Frosty bitch was bossing me around, she kept grabbing my hair and prodding me. Calling me useless. Weak. So I bit her.'

Magenta looked at her. She smirked. 'I was a wild child. Minion of Satan. Sort of. And he…' She pointed to the boy. 'My dear brother. Only person in the family who seemed to actually really care about me. He was always nicking me stuff, I practically lived on sweets and crisps for a while. I was feeling really put out at a school disco once - don't bother asking why - and he left all his friends to come and dance with me. It was always me and him against the world, the two Musketeers!' She thrust her fist in the air and laughed again. Magenta watched her, smiling at the look of joy on her face as good memories came flooding back.

He waited for it to subside, and, eventually, Ochre stopped laughing. Hiccupping slightly, she moved closer, next to him, and grabbed an edge of the album. Without really thinking, she leant her head on Magenta's shoulder, gazing at the photos. His smile broadened. He'd never known Ochre to do this sort of thing before and he was quite amazed.

'And that's my mother. Heard she was gorgeous in her day, but I never saw it. She was always tired-looking… worn out, when I saw her.' The smile slipped from Ochre's face, and she tightened her grip on the book, lifting her head up.

'One time, I remember coming home from school ill, and she was there in the kitchen, just… crying.' Ochre paused and swallowed, then carried on, her voice breaking up.

'I didn't understand why, I was only about seven. She just stood there, crying, and when I put my arms round her she flinched and pushed me off. She never did like people touching her. Makes you wonder how she managed to get pregnant three times.' Ochre bit her lip, her eyes shining. There was a pause, then she said bitterly, 'Why was I so stupid? Why didn't I realise that sick bastard had been hurting her?'

Inside, Magenta was fighting a strong urge to put both arms around her, hold her and tell her everything was okay, but he knew he couldn't. It wasn't strictly true, and she'd beat him off anyway, even if he was trying to help. 

Instead he sat there, occasionally glancing at her, his mind whirring as to what had happened to Ochre's mother. Her eyes had welled up and seemed in danger of spilling.

Ochre took a deep breath, her eyes closed. She bit her lip, then, slowly, she turned to Magenta. 'Mario…'

'Yes?' He answered quietly. He couldn't quite look at her. He was racked with guilt that he hadn't comforted her.

'Will you… will you help me please?' Ochre stuttered. As soon as she realised what she'd said, she bit her tongue. _No, don't get help, don't do it._

'I will, don't worry. I mean it. We'll have to see the doctor I think. It can't be too healthy for you to be feeling this bad.' Magenta smiled sadly at her. He reached for her hand.

'No! No, leave it! It's okay! I don't want help!' Ochre pushed herself away rapidly. Magenta's eyes widened. Her mood had changed so quickly.

'Elaine, Elaine please, calm down, you're-'

'I… I… Mario, just go…' Ochre pulled him to his feet and shoved him, hard, in the direction of the door. He didn't bother protesting further. He didn't even understand properly. She'd asked for help, now she was adamant she didn't get it.

With a final push, he was stumbling out into the corridor. When he'd regained his balance, he turned round to find Ochre, her hand on the door button. She looked at him for a long time, her eyes glassy, before saying 'I'm sorry.'

With that, she pressed the button, and was blocked from his view. 

Magenta stood there, wondering what to do. He dithered about, walking first one way, to the Med Campus, then the other way, to the Lounge. She needed help, she really did. He didn't know all the details, but whatever it was, it was obviously tormenting her. Why wouldn't she let him or any of her other friends help?

Inside, Ochre was fighting to stop the tears that were bound to fall. She started whispering to herself.

'Stop it, stop it, Elaine. You're stronger than this…'

She made her way through to the bathroom, and stopped before the small mirror over the sink. She saw how unhappy she looked, her eyes shining, her make up smudged, but didn't really take that it in. Instead, she thought about how she'd inherited His look. The nose, the eyes, the hair colour. All the same as Him. She loathed that fact.

Ochre leant her forehead against the cold surface of the mirror, closing her eyes. She felt so awful. Not just for herself, but for her colleagues too. If they had to take the brunt of her bad temper much longer, they may start to ask difficult questions, or, worse, ignore her until her mood improved. She couldn't let that happen. She needed them a lot right now, even if she couldn't tell them why. She just wanted them to be there for her.

Slowly, she lifted her head from the mirror, and asked herself some questions that she desperately needed the answers to.

'Why is this happening to me? Why now? What is going on?'


End file.
